The Return of Don Denver

Carrying four cement bags that totaled a backbreaking 440 pounds, Denver looked like it was no big deal.

With steady steps, he climbed the ladder to the second floor of the building in the construction.

Today’s grind was simple but grueling.

Hauling all the cement and sandbags upstairs.

His reward? A measly 30 bucks.

It wasn’t much, but he had no choice.

He was working for the future of his family.

Denver carefully placed the bags in a dry corner, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow. 

Just as he straightened up, a distinct click-clack caught his ear.

The rhythm of high heels on concrete.

A woman in a sleek purple dress with three-quarter sleeves.

Her dark hair flowing like silk, and a face as radiant as the morning sun.

She looked and swayed like a model, and was so out of place in this dirty site!

Every other worker dropped their jaws as they saw her.

What was a woman like her—dressed to kill in a stunning outfit—doing at a dusty construction site?

From the distance, her wide, sparkling eyes were locked on one person: Denver.

"Boss!"

Her voice rang out, clear and confident, cutting through the hum of the site.

Denver’s eyes widened in response.

“Watch out!”

A loud CRACK! shattered the air.

The tall brick wall next to her groaned and began to tilt.

The woman, completely absorbed in her excitement at seeing him, didn’t even notice the looming danger.

By the time she realized, the wall was already collapsing.

Denver didn’t think. He just moved. 

Like a blur. Next second, he grabbed her waist from behind and jumped forth in a diving motion.

BUDOOM~~!!

Dust exploded into the air, swallowing the site in a gray haze.

Denver and the brunette were on the floor, with her lying on top of him.

Their eyes quickly locking on each other.

Her lips curled into a small, knowing smile.

To leap from a ladder 50 feet away and reach her in under three seconds.

Then save her from a collapsing wall?

That kind of speed and reflexes wasn’t just rare.

It was extraordinary.

And now, standing right in front of her, was the man she’d been searching for.

The other workers whispered among themselves.

Some said it was a sudden gust of wind that toppled the wall; others weren’t so sure.

The woman paid no attention to the murmurs or the chaos around them. 

Her gaze stayed firmly on Denver.

Her smile emotional.

“Finally find you, boss… It’s great to see you’re still as sharp as ever.”

Denver frowned, confused.

He had no idea what she was talking about.

"Uh, Miss… I think you’ve got the wrong guy. I’m not your boss."

A flicker of disappointment crossed her face, but she quickly covered it up.

“You’re Hawkers’ top-level! Don’t you remember anything at all?!”

Now Denver was sure she had the wrong person.

“I’m just Denver, a regular construction worker.”

She glanced at his neck, her eyes catching a small mole there. Her smile deepened.

"You’re not just any Denver," she said. "It’s really good to see you again."

Her words felt heavy with meaning, but Denver didn’t have time to figure them out.

“You must be in shock from the fall. Sit down for a few minutes.”

He was already thinking about leaving. 

Today was Diane’s birthday—her first since they’d gotten engaged.

He had planned a special surprise for her.

Now he was busy finishing his task as soon as possible.

But the strange woman still gripped his hand.

Denver frowned.

Why was she being unreasonable?

“Trust me!”

She insisted, flashing a mischievous smile.

“Just hear me out. You must have lost your memories in the mission. We have been looking for you for 3 years...”

“I don’t have time for this,”

Denver said firmly, finally pulling his hand away.

Realizing she couldn’t get him to stay, she sighed, clearly frustrated.

Then she reached into her purse and pulled out a sleek bank card.

“If you won’t listen, at least take this,”

She said, holding it out to him.

Denver didn’t budge.

It screamed scam—the kind where you accept something and suddenly owe money you never agreed to.

Seeing his hesitation, she smirked.

She leaned forward, and slipped the card into his pocket.

“Check out this card. It’ll give you the answers you’re looking for, about your past.”

She said, adding a wink before turning on her heels and walking off.

“What was that all about? Is she even okay in the head?”

He shook his head and walked away, lifting his helmet to scratch his temple. 

Doubt flickered through his mind.

She was right. He did lose his memories. 

“I don’t remember anything that happened prior to being saved by Uncle Richard. But…”

He had already formed a new life with Richard’s family, and he didn’t really want to shift his focus anywhere else right now.

After Richard died from a tragic accident, Denver took on all the responsibilities of his family.

Today, on the big day of his fiancee, who is also Richard’s daughter, Denver especially had no time for anything else.

When the project manager’s whistle finally blew, Denver smiled, pulled off his helmet, and rushed home.

A bouquet of variegated roses was in his hand.

Something small and hidden was tucked in his pocket.

The house was quiet and bare.

The kind of emptiness that comes with moving into a new place without furniture yet.

He bounded up the stairs, three steps at a time.

He skidded to a stop outside their bedroom door. 

Grinning, he raised a hand to knock but froze mid-motion.

Noises coming from inside.

It was Diane’s voice mixed with another man’s voice.

“Are you sure we can keep doing this here?”

A man’s voice asked, casual but clear.

“He won’t be back until evening,” replied a woman.

Diane’s voice.

The words hit Denver like a punch to the gut, making him stumble back in disbelief.

His chest tightened like a storm.

He staggered, and his foot knocked over a vase sitting behind him.

It toppled to the floor, shattering loudly on impact.

The noise startled the people inside.

The door creaked open.

Diane stepped out, her face pale as she locked eyes with Denver, frozen in place like a statue.

Behind her, the man leaned lazily against the doorframe.

He smirked as if he’d been caught stealing candy, not someone else’s future.

Denver looked at Diane with utter disappointment and immense anger in his eyes.

“Who the hell is this clown?”

He growled, his voice trembling with fury.

“Are you fucking him?”

“D-Denver,” Diane stammered, her usual confidence shattered.

The blonde, her signature mole near her chin trembling with her, tried to explain.

“It’s not what you think! Stephen was just helping me with—”

“Helping you with what? Screaming for sex?”

Denver’s voice boomed, echoing through the house.

“Don’t lie to me, Diane! I heard everything!”

Even caught red-handed, she had the nerve to try and cover it up?!

The man behind Diane pushed her aside, interrupting her response.

Denver’s fists clenched as the stranger stepped forward.

His cocky smirk igniting every ounce of anger in him.

“So you’re the pathetic fiancé she’s been complaining about? You really do look like a loser.”

Stephen grinned wickedly,

“You smell like cement and shit mixed together.”

He walked one step closer to Denver, looked him in the eye.

“YEAH. I’m the one who’s been fucking your girl."

"And guess what? This wasn’t the first time."

"It sure as hell won’t be the last!”